


Spa Day

by elimymoons



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Tony Stark, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, Top Steve Rogers, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Tony Stark, mentions of dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elimymoons/pseuds/elimymoons
Summary: Tony is stressed. Tony enjoys the spa. Tony always enjoys having sex with Steve.





	Spa Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlossomsintheMist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/gifts).



> hello welcome to the filthiest thing I have written/posted in like........a year lmao 8) BlossomsintheMist always gives to us such great porn, so I wanted to give back to her for a change and write her somethin nice.
> 
> The only warnings I can think of are some slight mentions of dysphoria on Tony's part, but other than that everything is safe, sane, and consensual. And while I am trans and afab, I am not a trans man, so please let me know if anything I've written here is not-okay.
> 
> Other than that.......enjoy!!

Tony didn't take nearly enough time for himself.

Steve knew that Tony liked having spa days, that he enjoyed the time to unwind (to 'unplug', he would often say with a smirk at his own awful joke) and spare a moment of indulgence between battles. Steve also knew, unfortunately, that Tony didn't relax as much as he needed to ‒ whether he was too busy or stressed or didn't think he deserved the luxury, or that he was too stuck in his own head to the point that he thought the act of being pampered made him less masculine. Steve could see the signs of wear and tear in his long-time friend-cum-occasional-bedmate-now… partner? Boyfriend?

Whatever. Steve knew that Tony was tired, and he could use a break and the chance to feel soft and pretty and not worry about the state of the world for a few hours. The problem was, Tony needing a break and Tony actually _accepting_ he needed a break were two very different things, the latter of which often involved Steve bringing out the big guns to get his boyfriend to take care of himself.

So it was with full knowledge of the brevity of his actions that Steve Rogers did to Tony Stark that he did best:

" _Please_ , Tony," Steve begged, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look smaller and more pitiful. His brows were furrowed, eyes wide and just a little bit dewy. He might have even batted his lashes once or twice.

Tony looked stricken. Steve would be in agony if he knew this wasn't for the man's own good. "Honey‒" he started; he coughed to clear his throat. "Steve, honestly, the spa? You hate the spa."

"I wanted to spend the day with you," Steve continued then, sticking his lower lip out. "We haven't been out and done something for ourselves in… what? Two months? Three?" He took a big step forward, right up into Tony's space, and slid his hands up and down Tony's arms in a gentle caress. "And I don't hate the spa, Shellhead," he whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward to knock their heads together. He grinned, warmly pleased when Tony returned the smile easily. "And even if I did," Steve said, leaning in close to let his lips just tickle the outer shell of Tony's ear; Tony shivered, "I'd go on a hundred spa trips with you 'cuz I know how much you love 'em."

Tony shivered again, letting his head loll to the side. "You're a menace, Rogers," he murmured, but it was low and throaty and Steve could hear in his voice that he was seconds from caving. "And just what else did you have in mind, hmm? We're not honestly spending all day getting seaweed wraps and pedicures are we?"

Steve took a second to tuck that little nugget of suggestion back for future use. "Well," he said then, mouthing lightly down the side of Tony's throat. Tony's breathing hitched lightly. "Remember that package I ordered awhile back? It came in. Everything's been fitted and dry cleaned." Tony was very, very still in front of him. Steve smiled; _Victory_. "I was thinking we could get our legs waxed," he whispered, voice low and husky; he dragged one fingernail up the inside of Tony's arm from wrist to elbow, delighted at the prickling of gooseflesh along his skin. "Maybe do our nails?" Steve continued, teeth catching the sharp line of Tony's jaw. "Get all dressed up?"

"T-that's cheating, sugar plum," Tony whispered, his hands suddenly finding purchase in the back of Steve's shirt. Steve could feel a fine tremble in his hands, one that betrayed just how badly Tony had to want this. Steve hummed and nodded, lips glancing back down across Tony's throat and down to his collarbone. "I‒" Tony hesitated, licked his lips.

Steve waited.

"I.... suppose we could make a day of it," Tony finally allowed, fingertips slipping along and under the waistband of Steve's jeans, the ultra-fitted dark wash pair he put on specifically to go downstairs to talk to Tony with.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Steve said, smiling brightly as he leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Tony's lips.

"Yeah?" Tony asked softly, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back.

"Yeah," Steve confirmed as the words settled in his chest with a low rumble. "I'm so happy you said yes," he purred after a few more kisses, and Tony sighed against his lips.

"Yeah, well, how can I say no to my best guy?" Tony murmured, and affection bloomed in his chest, spreading out like sunshine to his fingers and toes.

Steve bit his lip against the sudden well of emotion, nosing into Tony's hair and breathing in deep. "Love you, Shellhead," he whispered tightly. Tony's breath hitched.

"Right back at you, Winghead," Tony whispered a moment later.

* * *

Tony loved the spa.

He loved the smells of mint and lavender and whatever the fuck else Cindy put in that delectable body scrub, loved the combination of hot wax and pain-plus-adrenaline that came with getting his legs and feet waxed, the way Miranda slowly buffed all the nicks and imperfections his nails and cuticles got from working with machinery day in and day out. Most of the time, people calling him 'Mr. Stark' day in and day out set his teeth on edge ("Mr. Stark was my father, _please_ ‒ call me Tony"), but on days like this, where he spent extra time and effort on the grooming and soft smells, and the‒

Hearing everyone here call him 'Mr. Stark' was just a blessing in and of itself.

To his right, Steve was lightly dozing, eyes flicking back to Tony every so often as Jenna and Terrance worked on waxing the thick golden hair from his calves and thighs. He breathed deeply through it, as if it were nothing more than tickle (though, knowing Steve, it probably did only tickle, the bastard).

He smiled lazily, turning over to blink at Tony, all soft and sleepy-eyed. "Hi," Steve said, flashing teeth. "How 'you holdin' up?" 

Tony snorted. "Like you don't already know," he teased. "I'm in heaven." And he honestly, truly was ‒ the headache that had been buzzing in his temples all day had started to recede, his muscles were loose and relaxed. He was pretty much half a second from falling asleep in the chair, embarrassingly enough, light and floaty in a way he rarely got outside of sex.

"Well, good," Steve replied, reaching out one hand to flick his fingers lightly against Tony's. "That's the whole point of this."

Tony was certain he should've said something snarky in reply, but he was far too relaxed to think of anything other than a soft hum, turning his hand over to tangle his fingers with Steve's. Steve instantly latched on, practically beaming at Tony as they finished up with the wax and moved to start lathering the body oil on. 

Tony sighed, blissed. "I," he started with a conspiratory whisper, "am going to give you so many blowjobs."

" _Tony_ ," Steve chastised, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. 

Jenna and Cindy giggled, but started gathering up the supplies. "We'll leave you two alone to get dressed," Jenna with a tilt of her head. "Please let us know if you need anything at all Mr. Stark, Mr. Rogers."

"Don't forget to drink some of the lemon water before you head out. Hydration is very important," Terrance continued with a sly grin, patting a towel to the soles of Steve's feet. "Would you like any help getting dressed, Mr. Rogers?"

"Ah, no thank you," Steve said, flush beginning to crawl down his neck to his chest. Tony watched it with glee, itching to follow the blush with his teeth.

"Have a good day, Mr. Stark," Cindy said with a flourish of a bow, ushering her assistants out with her just as Tony rolled off his chair and into Steve's lap.

"Hey, soldier," Tony purred, rolling his hips down against Steve's before sliding the side of his face against Steve like a cat. Steve gasped and Tony could feel his dick plump beneath him. Between the scrubs and the lotion and the body oil, Tony's skin smelled fresh and sweet and felt slick and soft, but Tony was still secretly pleased that Steve's body had no trouble responding to it. Tony groaned, his groin throbbing, and ground down against Steve's cock again. "You sure this is‒ this is okay?" he asked again in a sudden rush of uncertainty. "You like it?"

Steve's cheeks were flushed a healthy pink, splotches of the hue rolling down his pert chest and nipples. "Don't I look like I like it?" he whispered back, slightly hushed. He rocked his hips against Tony's moaning softly. "Everything's so‒ so sensitive," he continued, shivering; the tip of his cock was already leaking through the thin material of his briefs. Steve slid one leg up to rub alongside Tony's freshly-waxed leg and moaned again, hips twitching. His eyes were blown, the tiniest ring of blue surrounding all that deep black. "Oh, Tony, it's perfect," he confessed in a rush.

Tony groaned, biting down on his lower lip. "G-good," he replied. "That's so good, sugar." Tony allowed himself another slow grind of his hips before sliding down Steve's body until his feet and knees hit the floor beneath him. He bit lightly at Steve's inner thigh, letting the rough scratch of his goatee follow.

" _Tony_ ," Steve moaned. "Oh‒ oh honey‒ _Please_ ‒"

"Shh, shh, I gotcha," Tony soothed, mouthing along the edge of Steve's briefs, tongue darting out to trace across the crease. Steve hissed, his hips jerking, and brought one shaky hand up to pet along Tony's hair, the other hand fisted in the cover on the chair, a quiet litany of _Tony, Tony, please, please, please_ falling from his lips.

"I gotcha honey," Tony said again, grabbing at the elastic and easing it down over Steve's cock, under his balls. It was already glistening with precome, a trail of it oozing from the head, and Tony couldn't help himself, he leaned forward and sucked it up so gently, like it was the sweetest of candies.

" _Tony_ ," Steve sobbed again, and Tony shushed him, one hand petting his thigh. His tongue darted out, lapping at the sticky, salty sweet wetness on his dick, tracing trails down behind his balls. Tony moaned, slipping one into his mouth, then the other, saliva pooling in his mouth just at the thought of sucking Steve off. "I've got you," Tony murmured, before flattening his tongue and running back up Steve's dick and lifting up to swallow him down.

" _Oh_ ," Steve whispered, breath hitching, thighs trembling beneath him. "Oh, honey, I'm‒"

"You're so close already," Tony murmured, lightly awestruck. God, and that was one of the hottest things about Steve, how he could get so worked up over the simplest things, like Tony blowing him, how he took care not to grab Tony's hair and drag him down without warning, how he always managed to rein himself in to practically the point of pain, but he couldn't hold back how _deeply Tony affected him‒_

Tony moaned suddenly, his gut clenching and throbbing as he lowered himself to swallow down more of Steve, throat rumbling and spasming as he pulled out all the stops, tried to make it as good as possible for Steve despite how short this blowjob was going to be‒

"Oh, _I'm coming_ ," Steve whispered reverently, both hands petting Tony's hair and face now, his legs practically jerking as his hips rocked ever so gently back and forth into Tony's mouth and Tony just swallowed and swallowed and swallowed. "Oh, oh, Tony, _Tony_ ," he whined, music to Tony's ears as he spent himself, thick and viscous down Tony's throat, in his mouth, dribbling from the corner of his lips.

Before Tony could say _what_ , Steve had pulled him up and into Steve's lap, rocking his still half-hard cock up against the wet spot of Tony's boxer briefs, one hand diving into his pants, the other grasping almost viciously at Tony's jaw so he could lick every trace of come from his face, his lips, his tongue. " _You're so wet_ ," he moaned, low and throaty, two fingers dipping in to flick at his sensitive inner walls before slipping out to start jerking at his cock.

"I'm ah‒ ah‒ always wet for you, honey," Tony moaned back, hips jerking at the perfect, punishing pace Steve had set for him. "Oh, sugar, pumpkin, _please, please please‒_ "

"Oh, Tony, Tony, I've got you," Steve groaned, teeth sinking into the thick of his throat. "Let me‒ let me, please, oh can I‒?" he stuttered shakily, and Tony could feel his other hand grabbing at his cock, the slick slapping of skin on skin as Steve furiously jerking himself off.

"God, Steve, whatever you want," Tony replied, and Steve gasped, hand sliding out of Tony's boxer briefs and Tony could've _cried_ , except Steve was flipping them over and shoving Tony's underwear down his thighs and lapping at him, dipping into him, sucking at his cock hard and fast and just how Steve knew how to get him off.

" _Oh, oh, oh_ ," Tony gasped, feeling it build in his toes and sliding up into his knees and thighs. His legs were shaking. "Oh Steve, I'm so close‒" he whispered brokenly, biting back against a sob, and Steve just swirled his tongue faster, harder against Tony's dick, and Tony was coming, shaking apart under Steve, his groin throbbing and clenching and burning wet and warm, breath catching in his throat as he tried to remember what _breathing felt like_ and seconds later Tony could feel Steve's come striping his thighs, his dick, his stomach, and Tony moaned weakly, another valiant twitch coming from his legs and cock.

Soft kitten licks drifted across his skin and Tony swore. "Oh, you're gonna kill me Winghead," Tony laughed against a moan, hands trembling as he gently finger-combed through Steve's sweat-soaked locks.

Steve merely grinned, his lips shiny with spit and come and _Tony_. He pressed one long, sucking kiss to Tony's abdomen. "Say that again after I show you how I look in my new outfit," he said, eyes glittering with mischief as he licked slowly at his lips.

Tony's dick may have foolishly tried to come again.

* * *

Steve couldn't stop kissing him.

In the car (Sorry, Happy), in the elevator, slowly tripping from the elevator to the middle of the penthouse. Steve kept slipping his fingers against Tony's soft, sweet-smelling skin, nipping at his jaw, rolling his hips slow and sensual against Tony's.

"I should‒" Steve growled softly, sucking what was going to be a fantastic bruise into the junction of his shoulder, "I should go get dressed."

Tony felt a shiver run down his spine. "You should," he managed to rumble back, fingers digging into the meat of his ass. Tony sighed and rocked his hips forward, delighted to see Steve was already ready to go again after the two orgasms he'd had in the car ( _Sorry, Happy_ ).

"I should go get dressed, too," Tony continued in a whisper, goatee prickling against Steve's sensitized skin. "Meet you in the bedroom?"

"Definitely," Steve said in a rush, pressing quick kisses along his jaw and throat.

"That means you gotta stop kissin' me, stud," Tony teased lightly, nipping at Steve's earlobe.

Steve huffed out a laugh. "Right, right," he grumbled and smacked one final kiss to Tony's lips. Tony laughed, pushing at his chest and twirling on his toes.

Alone in the bedroom, it was a little harder to keep up the same level of confidence as he stared down at the outfit he wanted to wear. He picked up the soft, silky sheer lace and just let his fingers glide against it for a moment, breathing in the soft scent of whatever detergent it was the cleaning staff used and the barest hint of Steve that still clung to Tony and all his possessions even here, in a corner of the closet either of them barely frequented.

"This doesn't make me any less of a man," Tony whispered to himself, bending over to dip one leg, then the other into the panties and sliding them up to his hips. He shivered at the feeling of the lace and nylon stockings on the bare, freshly waxed skin, the way the buckles of the garter felt clipping into place, curling low in his gut and throbbing hotly, making him nearly dizzy with desire. "I like how I feel wearing these," Tony whispered to his reflection ‒ and besides, Steve was at this moment in time putting on‒

Tony shivered. He slipped the satin robe on, tying the belt loosely at his waist and feeling the hem swish at his waist. Everything felt hypersensitive, from his chest to his cock to his toes, the way the lace scratched at his groin and ass and thighs, the nylon hugging his calves, the soft flutter of the robe as he paced from one end of the room to the other.

There was a knock at the door and a soft "Hey, Shellhead," and Tony was flying across the room before he knew it, wrenching the door open and‒ Oh.

_Oh._

There Steve was, wearing an honest to god red and gold bustier, skirt, and fishnet stockings, and Tony was groaning and moving into Steve's space, fingers running up and down the boning, up under the lace of the skirt and _oh god he was wearing a thong_ ‒ Tony hissed in a breath and traced his fingertips up the cleft of Steve's ass and Steve shuddered, hands coming down to rest on Tony's shoulders. He clung to Tony, mouthing at the shell of his ear and moving his hips in tiny, shifting circles, causing the skirt to ruffle and and twist and good _god_ , Tony was going to _die_.

"I think‒" Tony cleared his throat, hand sliding forward to cup at Steve's cock, which jerked and leaked in his hand; Tony felt heady, like he was already halfway under. "I think," he tried again, "that if you don't fuck me soon I might very well die, Winghead."

Steve's breath left him in a whoosh, chest heaving, his nipples just poking out of his top. Tony couldn't help himself ‒ he dipped his head forward and latched onto one nipple, then the other, alternating between sharp bites and wet, lathering laps of his tongue.

"Please, Steve," Tony murmured softly, grabbing hold of one of Steve's soft tits and squeezing firmly. Steve moaned, reaching down to grab Tony's off and lift him in his arms, and god if that wasn't the hottest thing, that Steve could lift him like he was _nothing_ ‒

Tony's back dipped and hit the bed and Steve was running his hands up Tony's stockings, spreading his legs and lifting them over his shoulders so he could lap at Tony's ass. Tony moaned, shifting in place, digging his fingers into the bedspread.

"Tell me what you want," Steve murmured, soft and sex rough as he yanked Tony's panties to the side so he could tongue at Tony more thoroughly. When Tony began to buck his hips, Steve used his free arm to hold him down, and Tony just moaned underneath him again. "You gotta tell me how you feel today, honey," Steve whispered, breath hot against his ass, tickling the soft, sensitive flesh of his opening. Very gently, he began to circle his fingers around Tony's dick.

Tony jerked, his body singing. A hot flush crawled down his neck and chest, splotchy and far from attractive. His fingers tapped out an unsteady rhythm against the bed. "H-honey, you k-know what I like," Tony groaned, torn between grinding against Steve's mouth and rolling over to bury his face in the covers.

"Nuh-uh," Steve sang; his tongue danced around the rim of his asshole before very delicately probing inside, once, twice. "I know how you are, Shellhead," he continued affectionately, pressing a wet and messy kiss to the back of Tony's thigh; Tony felt his face flush even hotter. "Your comfort levels change on a day to day basis, and I want to make sure‒" Steve bit down lightly where Tony's ass met his thigh, "‒that nothing happens that you are not one-hundred-percent on board with." Steve moved back to suck and slurp at his ass and, oh god, Steve was touching him so _intimately_ ‒

Tony whimpered, high-pitched in the back of his throat; he was instantly mortified, one arm flying up to cover his face.

"Hey, hey, hey," Steve soothed, lifting up so he could stare down at Tony. "What's the matter? Tony?"

"I'm fine," Tony gasped out; he wrenched his arm back so Steve could see the red in his face, how blown his pupils were. He took in another deep, stuttering breath. "I d-don't think I can handle you‒ there," he finished lamely, grimacing. It was fairly tight on the best of days, and considering how hard of a time he had even taking Steve anally, having sex… the other way left Tony usually feeling a messy mix of emotions he didn't like to mix with how he felt about Steve. "Fingers and mouth are fine," he continued eventually, grimacing at himself. Of all the things to _complain about_ ‒

"Of course," Steve murmured, cutting off that train of thought. He slid his hands up and down Tony's thighs, callouses catching roughly on his stockings, and it sent a rush of heat to Tony's gut.

"Oh honey, I really want you to fuck me," Tony confessed; he shut his eyes against another shudder and tilted his hips up, hoping Steve would get it. A cool rush of air slid over his damp asshole and he moaned, hips jerking at the sensitivity.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, hands moving up to massage the backs of Tony's thighs, his ass. "I know I'm not exactly‒" And Steve ducked his head then, a bit shyly, as he gave a small, self-deprecating grin. "I'm not exactly the easiest fit, honey."

Tony moaned again, feeling his ass and gut clench, the small spurt of wetness that left him at that. "Oh sugar plum, that's what I like about it," he gasped, fighting the urge to writhe in Steve's arms. "But you're gonna get me all loose and wet‒ and, and ready for you, aren't you pumpkin?"

Steve's fingers clenched against his ass, and then he was surging up, Tony's legs falling to the bed, and Steve was kissing Tony, needy and sloppy, whining softly against his lips. He pressed kiss after kiss to Tony's lips, hands cradling Tony's jaw so gently it made heat prickle behind Tony's eyes and emotion claw at the inside of his throat.

"Oh Tony," Steve said between kisses. "I'm going to make this _so good_ for you." Then he was sitting up, fumbling in the bedside table for the lube they kept there, and when Steve laid back down, knocking their foreheads together, Tony wasn't at all surprised to find warm, slick fingers rubbing at the cleft of his ass, between his cheeks, circling around the edge of his hole. Wet fingers flicked the straps of Tony's garter belt, then unclipped them oh-so-gently, leaving them to lay against Tony's thighs and Tony moaned, the sharp humiliation of it crawling up his neck in a hot flush, like he really was Steve's toy, something to be fucked and used and‒

Steve pressed another open-mouthed kiss to the underside of Tony's jaw before grabbing one of his legs, spreading him almost obscenely so Steve could get at his ass more efficiently, could stroke at the rim of his asshole like he could spend all night there. "I'm gonna take care of you," Steve swore, circling a second finger around the rim, waiting for Tony to open up and let him in. A soft, needy sound wrenched itself from his chest, and he felt brittle and open and so so warm as Steve slid that second finger in. Steve patted Tony's thigh softly and let go of his leg, and then the laces holding his panties together slowly slid apart, leaving Tony's ass half exposed as they pooled and dragged around his hips. Tony moaned and there was more lube slipping onto Steve's fingers and into his ass and Tony sobbed against the sensitivity, spreading his legs and lifting his ass so Steve could fuck into his ass a little more.

"There you go, Shellhead," Steve murmured, and slid one finger in, probing, gently stretching as he slowly fucked it in and out. "Look at you," he murmured, his expression open and dazed and flushed with sex and Tony wanted to moan, wanted to rut against the bed and spread his legs like a whore for Steve because Steve was going to _take care of him_. "I got you, I got you," Steve swore, pressing kisses along Tony's neck, his collarbone. Tony moaned, felt saliva pooling in his mouth as he panted into the sheets.

" _Steve_ ," he whined. "Steve, Steve, _Steve_ ‒" Tony sobbed again and ground down on Steve's fingers, and Steve rewarded him by slipping in another finger, soft and slick and rubbing against his insides like he was made to be there. He rubbed his face back and forth against the sheets. Tony moaned, hands fisting into the covers, and Steve's fingers spread inside him, spreading him wet and slick and open and _god_ , he was going to be gaping by the end of this (he'd _need_ to be gaping, to be able to take Steve).

"I'm going to give you another finger, Tony," Steve murmured against the back of his neck, and Tony jerked and whined in his arms, trying to spread his legs even farther apart, trying to accommodate all of Steve as he pressed his pinky into Tony's ass. "Gotta make sure you're nice and open for me, Shellhead," Steve whispered, a low rumble deep in his throat. Sweat was dripping down Tony's hair, his nose, pooling at the base of his spine. Steve had to be in similar shape ‒ he always got so worked up when he was working Tony open, called it a damn _privilege_ with a laugh and a little wrinkle of his brow as he fingered Tony open to take his cock.

"God look at you," Steve whispered reverently, fingers sliding out of Tony with a wet, slick sound. Behind him, Tony could hear Steve slicking up his cock, and a shiver slid up Tony's spine at the thought that _That's going to be in me soon_.

"Ready, Shellhead?" Steve asked, fingers playing with the straps of Tony's garter. He could feel Steve shifting, could feel the the rasp of the fishnet and tulle miniskirt scraping his legs and ass and thighs and then there was the blunt pressure of Steve's cock, hot and ready for Tony to take.

"I'm ready, Winghead," Tony groaned, and Steve slipped his fingers under the garter and began the slow slide in and‒

_God_. He was big.

Tony swore, burying his face in the covers, lifting his ass and spreading his legs and making sure to stay relaxed while Steve fucked ever so gently in, the trembling of his thighs betraying just how tightly Steve was controlling himself. Tony's breath hitched and he rolled his hips back, the sharp pinch of pain worth it for the way Steve's hips stuttered and he moaned over and over into Tony's hair, fingers spasming against the lace and silk.

"Oh God, oh God, Shellhead‒ Tony," Steve moaned, blissed out of his mind. "Oh honey, you feel so good."

"Right‒ right back at you, pumpkin," Tony managed, rocking back again, pleased when all he felt was a soft burn, like a good warm-up stretch before a workout. "Oh, oh, _oh_ ," Tony moaned and clenched down, and Steve keened, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise, and he was shifting back and fucking in like everything Tony ever wanted.

Tony was going to die, surely. Sweat beaded on his skin, trapped between his own outfit and Steve's, the sound of fabric rustling and skin slapping loud in the room and suddenly Steve was pressed chest to Tony's back, the bone of the bustier digging into Tony's spine as Steve reached around and jerked at his cock, circling and teasing and pulling just the way he needed to be able to get off.

"Steve, Steve, _please_ ," Tony begged, hips rolling up to meet his. "Honey, sugar muffin please‒ come on big boy, I wanna feel you come in me‒" Steve swore, fingers working furiously at Tony's dick even as he could feel Steve's thighs beginning to tremble, his hips begin to stutter. "That's right, stud," Tony moaned, clenching again to work him from the inside, feeling warmth starting to spread from his toes up. "Come on, big guy, you can do it, honey bunches‒"

Steve moaned, low and desperate, and Tony could feel his insides coating hot with come, with Steve's come, felt it splashing and sloshing as Steve's hips jerked messily through the aftershocks, still valiantly massaging Tony's cock and‒ god, he was so close‒

Steve's free hand reached back to rub at the spot where his dick slid into Tony's ass, playing with the cum there and Tony felt the shout build up in his chest, bursting out as Steve's teeth sunk into the meat of his shoulder and he was coming clenching and spasming around Steve's dick and Steve was moaning again and fucking at his hole with his fingers and his dick and Tony was whining, soft and high-pitched as Steve slowly, gently slid himself out, turning Tony around so that they were chest to chest, fingers shakily slipping over the clasps of his bustier so he could slip out of it and snuggle himself into Tony's side, one leg knocked between his. Tony could feel tears in his eyes, still shivering from the aftershocks, and he felt that familiar flush of mortification rising up inside his chest, but Steve merely wrapped his arms around Tony and played his fingers up and down Tony's back, against the curve of his spine, the dip just above his ass.

"That was so nice," Steve murmured a few minutes later, once he got his breath back. "You enjoy yourself?" he asked lowly, nuzzling softly against Tony's cheek.

"'Did I enjoy myself', the man asks," Tony says, words soft and slurring. "Man makes me come harder than I have in over half my adult life and he asks me 'did I enjoy myself'." But he smiled, burrowing further into Steve's warmth, tapping his foot to Steve's ankle. "Was I‒ was it good for you, too?"

" _So good_ , Tony," Steve said, voice hushed. "You're so good to me," he continued then, lips glancing along the side of Tony's goatee. "Even I may need a nap after all that."

"Glad to be... of service," Tony mumbled, fighting back a yawn. "'Love you, honey." Steve's breath hitched beside him, fingers tightening around Tony's middle. They needed to get up and clean themselves up before they got all tacky and disgusting, before Tony leaked all the come out of his ass onto the bed, but first‒

_Nap_ , Tony thought dreamily.


End file.
